Absolute
by venis-envy
Summary: HPDM Slash! Science and magic are an interesting combination. Humor/fluff/smut - post war/ewe  quick little oneshot written from my Blackberry for no reason other than the fact that it wouldn't leave my head. i love these boys.


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**A/N**

**Because of all the Ginny-hate flying around the HP fandom, I mentioned the other day to my dear friend glitteratiglue this plot bunny I had that sort of…involved her. We laughed and joked about how it would be a funny crackfic, but me being…well, me, I sort of took it as a challenge and made it my goal to write said plot bunny sans…crack.**

**Written is less than 24 hours on my Blackberry, this is my first [posted] endeavor into HP fanfic. **

**Many thanks and inappropriate fondling to my hearts, vampireisthenewblack and glitteratiglue for the encouragement and pre-reading, and to bookjunkie1975 who offered to beta for me as I do not currently have a short-notice HP fic beta. I appreciate it so much. **

**Disclaimer: I own a lot of things, none of which are nearly as fun as Draco and Harry. **

**Also, random fyi: I've said it a thousand times, but I still try. You can NOT make Harry and Draco do it in Lego Harry Potter for the Wii. It just won't happen. Someone fix this.**

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"So, let me see if I've got this correct," Draco says as he stares intently at the small, lidded jar in his hand. He holds it up to Harry who is leaning casually against the wall on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed, fingers pressed into his biceps. Draco will not allow himself to be distracted by that, though. He shakes his head slightly to clear his deviant thoughts and focus on the matter at hand. "You want me to have sex with this?"

Harry stares blankly at him for a moment before snorting with laughter. Draco sees nothing funny at all about the situation and is just about to say so when Harry pushes himself off the wall and begins stalking towards him. Draco fidgets uncomfortably for reasons he can't begin to explain, even to himself, and tucks the sheet tightly underneath his thighs on the exam table.

"First of all," says Harry as his hands slide up Draco's thighs in a very suggestive manner, "you knew what the plan was when we came here today. And secondly," Harry leans forward, his warm, cinnamon breath fanning out over Draco's neck as he whispers seductively into his ear, "I don't want you ever having sex with _anything_ but me."

Draco swallows thickly. "Are you a _thing?"_ he asks, his voice broken from nerves. Harry doesn't answer, but instead responds with small kisses to the side of Draco's neck.

"I know what you're doing," Draco says, his breath catching as Harry continues to kiss and suck at his skin. It's a divine sensation and Draco finds his cock responding despite their clinically sterile and inappropriate surroundings. "And...it–it isn't going to work," he stammers. Strong hands gently knead at Draco's thighs and when fingers brush against his arousal, he knows his ruse of disinterest is up.

"I don't appreciate your tactic," Draco says as Harry gently nudges his legs apart to stand even closer.

"This suggests otherwise," he says as he drags his fingers up and down the thin sheet that separates his hand from Draco's cock. Draco clears his throat, leaning away from Harry as much as his body will allow him to.

"Can't you just...shag the Weaslette properly?" Draco feels Harry tense at his words.

"Is that how you want it?" he asks before moving to capture Draco's lips with his own. The kiss is warm and wet and nearly knocks all coherent thought completely out of Draco's mind as he finds his own hands releasing their death grip on his sheet and snaking around Harry's waist instead.

Draco, having thought his comment through for a moment longer, murmurs his disapproval at the idea of his lover having sex with an ex girlfriend. Even if said ex girlfriend happens to be a very close friend to both of them. So close, in fact, that she'd agreed almost without a thought at all, to participate in this strange and foreign procedure.

Harry and Draco had never even thought of having a child of their own, but when Granger began dabbling in experimental magic nine years ago, implementing said magic into theories based on her knowledge of genetic engineering in an attempt to combine the sperm of two willing males and plant it within the basically void egg of a donor female, neither could deny that the idea intrigued them. Still, they were smart and kept their distance, watching from the sidelines with no real thought that her theory would ever pan out. Yet here they are, nearly a decade later, in the clinic of Hermione Granger. Her experimentation had been a success, and she is now board certified throughout the entire wizarding world. It was positively incredible that no one had thought of it before. But, as Draco had quickly come to realise, Granger was successful at virtually anything she put her mind to.

"If I have sex with Ginny..." Draco nearly vomits in his mouth at Harry's casual mention of the vile act. "Then the baby would be mine and hers. Even if you and I raise it." Harry's lips are still against Draco's as he speaks and Draco can't help that his tongue peeks out for a taste even after Harry's words burn an image into his mind that he won't soon forget. "If we do it this way, it's a part of you and a part of me. Wouldn't you rather have a child that's a reflection of our love for one another?"

"Yes, of course," Draco whispers wholeheartedly. He's distracted by the man in front of him, but he very much agrees. "Now get out of here, or none of this will end up in the cup."

Harry smirks, kisses him once more, and takes a step back. "Are you sure you don't need a hand? Mine are quite willing, you know." Harry holds his hands out in front of him but Draco promptly swats them away.

"Out," he says adamantly.

"Oh, come on," Harry replies, his green eyes almost pleading and Draco has to suppress a laugh. "What if I promise not to touch? It isn't fair that the cup gets all the action while I have to sit in the waiting room."

"What I find quite unfair is the fact that you've got so many clothes on while I'm practically naked." Draco pulls the sheet over him, covering even more skin than he already had been. He's irritated that he couldn't just waltz in here, pull down his zip and wank the day away. No, he was made to strip completely for a standard physical examination first. Harry had gone in for his session yesterday and seems to have forgotten to mention the naked part.

"Besides," Draco continues, "Granger already told you she didn't want you in here. Probably for that exact reason." With the jerk of his chin, he gestures towards Harry's tented trousers.

Harry smiles sheepishly, reaching down and grabbing himself as he shifts side-to-side in an attempt to adjust himself. He makes his way to the door of the exam room, casting one last glance over his shoulder.

"Love you," he says with a devious smile.

"Love you, too," Draco replies as the door clicks shut behind Harry. "You rotten git."

He groans, grabbing his wand from its place beside him and casts a privacy spell. And then another, just for safe measure.

oOo

"What do you think?" Harry's voice comes from the soon-to-be nursery as Draco is walking down the hall. He halts, takes a giant step backwards and peers into the room. Harry is standing, shirtless in loose fitting jeans that barely hang onto his hips, with his back to him admiring his own handiwork. Draco's gaze rakes across the room before he steps inside and scowls at the back of his lover's head.

"It's pink," he says. Harry nods. "Why is it pink?"

"It's light, mellow, soothing–"

"–Feminine," Draco interrupts.

"You still think it's a boy?" Harry asks as he turns to face Draco finally.

"I _know,_" Draco qualifies. There's a small crinkle between Harry's eyebrows and Draco, even after all these years, can't quite tell if he's preparing for a fight, or just utterly amused. He takes his chances, reaching out his hand.

Harry closes the distance between them, taking Draco's hand and kissing him tenderly. While he's occupied, Draco takes the opportunity to flick his wand over Harry's shoulder, changing the walls to a pale pastel green and the once-white moulding to light grey. He probably would have gotten away with it had it not been for the fact that their kiss is interrupted by his giant, stupid grin. Harry glances at the wall beside them.

"Hey! I actually painted this, you know. No magic at all."

Draco feels a little guilty and purses his lips while he considers his options. The look in Harry's eyes isn't demanding or angry or even hurt, but Draco sees the smallest hint of disappointment glimmering within their depths nonetheless. He sighs, shoulders slumping, and flicks his wand again, returning the room to its dreadful pink. Harry smiles his approval as he moves even closer.

"I like the cradle," Draco says with the slightest hint of a pout in his tone. "And the mobile." He pokes at one of the many enchanted butterflies, which begins to flutter around in circles above the cradle.

Harry's lips press to Draco's throat, their bodies so close together now without a bit of space between them. Not so much as a whisper of air can make its way through, and that's exactly how Draco likes it. He shifts his hips slightly, just enough to allow Harry to feel how hard he is. His thoughts are filled with images of himself pushing Harry against the wall in the hallway and fucking him all night until they both pass out from exertion.

He suddenly feels more dirty and deviant than he's entirely comfortable with, and whether it's because of the room they're in while he's thinking such thoughts or the fact that, by changing the walls back to pink, he's basically admitted defeat—something quite uncharacteristic of a Malfoy—he can't be certain. Either way, it doesn't feel right.

Harry walks out of the room, pulling Draco by the hand along with him and as he turns the corner, Draco casts one last spell into the nursery, changing the walls back to his chosen colours.

He smiles to himself while Harry's back is to him, muscles shifting smoothly as he moves, and by the time they've made it into their bedroom, all thought of nursery and baby and pink and green has fled him and all he can think of is the man he loves standing before him, slowly unbuttoning his pants with a wicked expression on his face.

In a moment, clothing is shed and Draco is pushing Harry back onto their bed. His mind is warring with itself, unable to decide whether he wants to fuck or be fucked more. He considers asking Harry, but he finds that he's a bit too selfish for that. And besides, the look in his lover's eyes says that he'll take anything Draco is willing to offer. And right now Draco decides that he would very much like to feel Harry's thick cock inside him.

Draco's hands explore Harry's body and he crawls up onto the bed, straddling his hips. Harry wraps his hand round Draco's neck and pulls him into a kiss. Their breath mingles as their tongues slide together, teasing and tasting and driving each other mad with want. Harry's hands move to Draco's arse, kneading the smooth flesh as he thrusts up off the mattress with a groan.

The two of them are usually big on the foreplay, sometimes spending the entire day teasing and touching until eventually one of them ends up bent over whatever piece of furniture is nearest while the other pounds into him relentlessly, but tonight is different. Draco's need is almost dire and he finds himself practically whimpering as Harry's warm, moist finger presses against the skin just behind Draco's balls. It is in this moment that he realises he never really had the choice as to who was fucking whom tonight and he wonders for a moment if Harry has somehow slipped him a potion to make him randy as all hell and perfectly willing to be manipulated.

Harry's eyes are half closed and the contented smile fades from his face as a look of concentration overtakes his features and he pushes a finger up inside Draco. Both men groan with pleasure—one in giving it and the other in receiving. Harry moves his wrist in the limited space he's allotted between their bodies, twisting and thrusting and eventually adding one more finger. Draco's hands trail over Harry's chest and stomach, relishing the contrast between his hard, muscled body and the gentle way he uses it to bring Draco such pleasure.

Not able to wait any longer, Draco reaches for the bottle of lube that Harry had tossed down beside them at some point and slicks his palm before gripping Harry's hardened length. Harry removes his hand from between them, grabbing Draco's hips now instead. His lips are parted slightly and he tosses his head back moaning as Draco strokes him a few times before lining himself up over the head of Harry's cock. He looks so beautiful in that moment, his dark hair mussed up against the white pillow case, chest heaving as he bites his bottom lip in preparation of the pleasure to come. Draco almost doesn't want to spoil the moment by moving, but he commits this image to memory as he slowly swivels his hips, the head of Harry's slick cock circling his entrance in excruciatingly slow motion. When green eyes finally snap open and fix on Draco's, he knows the other man is done waiting as well. Harry's fingers dig into Draco's hips as he thrusts forcefully up into him, pulling him down hard all at once.

Draco groans in pained-pleasure, screwing his eyes shut tight as he adjusts to the feeling of being stretched and filled so completely. His head is bowed, hair falling in front of his face as his fingertips press into Harry's chest in a way that's sure to leave marks.

He hears a barely audible "I'm sorry" as Harry's hands rub delicately along Draco's hips and thighs. Draco shakes his head communicating that he's all right and just needs a minute. Leaning down carefully, he takes Harry's lip into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. Harry's hands explore Draco's body, the rough drag of calloused fingers against smooth skin sending another sensation of pleasure and desperation through Draco. He can't get enough, he knows he can't. He wants to be on him and in him and all around him at once. After just another moment, he begins to move, lifting himself before dropping back down onto Harry. Each stroke in and out is achingly slow and deliciously satisfying and Draco wants to make it last all night but he knows he won't be able to. Harry moans in pleasure, his grip on Draco's hips tightening as their pace quickens.

Harry's hand moves to Draco's length, squeezing and stroking as Draco thrusts into his palm. Harry grips him tighter still and Draco is awash in ecstasy at the dual sensations of fucking and being fucked. He's so close to coming, almost too lost in his own satisfaction to know if Harry is close as well.

Draco forces his eyes open to watch the other man's face. That line has returned between his brows in what Draco recognises this time to be deep concentration. Harry, for some reason, never wants to come before Draco does. Draco chalks this up to yet another selfless Savior-slash-Gryffindor trait. He clenches his muscles, squeezing Harry's length as his fingers lightly rub the other man's hardened nipples in an attempt to get Harry to lose himself and come first.

It almost works this time, but as Harry tosses his head back, eyes closed and lips parted, Draco is the first to lose it, hot streams of come spurting out across Harry's chest and throat as Draco groans and slams his arse down against Harry's thighs harder and harder.

Draco, in some sort of foggy sex-haze, doesn't even realise how it happens, but suddenly he finds his chest pressed against the wall across the room as Harry's body pushes against him from behind. One arm snakes around his waist while the other hand grips Draco's pushing it against the wall above his head. Draco is almost angry that he's just come as this happens to be his preferred position and he knows he won't be able to again for a while.

Harry pushes into him once more, swirling his hips as he gently bites and nibbles at the back of Draco's neck and even though his own cock is softened now, Draco is still very much aroused and thinks he might just die if Harry ever stops.

But stop he must, Draco thinks, and soon, apparently as a loud noise comes from somewhere downstairs. They both know that can only mean one thing as the wards are set for two specific people for one _very_ specific reason.

"Fuck," Harry hisses through clenched teeth against Draco's ear, frustrated that he has to finish more quickly than he'd hoped. Draco smiles as Harry slams into him harder and faster than before until he feels the other man's cock pulsing within him as Harry bites down on his shoulder, his fingers gripping Draco's tightly.

After a few long moments, Harry kisses the back of Draco's neck. They're both spent and Draco wants nothing more than to collapse onto the bed with his lover for a restful night's sleep, but as he hears frantic footsteps on the stairs now, he has a knowing suspicion that said restful night's sleep will be completely out of reach for the rest of his life—or at least the next year.

Turning in Harry's arms, he kisses first the crease between his eyebrows and then his soft, swollen lips. Still leaning against the wall, Harry finally opens his eyes.

"I think we have to go," he says, and without further prompting, Draco scrambles across the bed, snatching his wand up off the night table. He casts a spell to slam the door shut just as they hear Hermione's voice calling out for them.

"One minute!" Harry calls back as he grabs the heap of clothing off the floor and tosses Draco his.

Draco casts a quick cleaning spell over both of them before pulling on his trousers and what appears to be…yes, _Harry's_ shirt from earlier in the day.

Dressed in each other's clothes and only a little rumpled, they open the door to an anxious, pink-cheeked Hermione.

"Ginny's in labour. It's time!"

The three of them rush down the hall, Hermione in the lead, and as Harry reaches back to take Draco's hand, he aims his wand into the nursery without even looking to see what Draco had done earlier, and casts a spell returning it to pink yet again.

The knowing bastard.

Draco moves to point his wand at the room once more, but Harry is faster and grabs Draco's wrist as he distracts him with a gentle kiss.

Hermione calls up to them impatiently from the bottom of the stairs as she sprints to the fireplace.

"Wait until we get home," Harry whispers into Draco's ear, and while he wants to take it as a threat, or rather, promise of what's to come, he thinks Harry probably means wait until they bring the baby home and know whether it's a boy or girl.

Harry casts another spell into the room and a pattern of pale pink and green are chequered across the walls.

They kiss once more, soft and slow, before pulling apart and rushing to catch up with their friend.

oOo

As with any typical, health pregnancy and typical, healthy birth, the new parents are allowed to bring the tiny addition to their family home after just a couple of days.

Draco sits in the comfortable chair beside the cradle as he rocks the small baby, admiring tiny features that are, as far as he's concerned, too small to properly tell to whom they most resemble. Probably Harry's nose, Draco thinks as he kisses the tiny round tip of it. And certainly Harry's thick, dark eye lashes and out-of-control hair. He runs a long finger over the dark, downy-soft tuft atop the baby's head. Draco has heard countless tales of the miracle of birth from various friends and family members over the years, but after witnessing the act himself, he's sure the ick factor outweighs the miracle by far. He's also quite certain that he'll spend the rest of his life spoiling this child rotten. Not because he can, but because he feels an incredible urge to pay penance out of guilt that the child had to spend such a great amount of time near—and _in_—Ginny Weasley's vagina.

There is no question that the baby is a miracle, though. Draco can't bring himself to stop touching tiny feet and little ears and fingers that are barely able to wrap around one of his own.

A small mewling noise draws Draco out of his silent awe. Lifting the baby carefully to rest over his shoulder, he alternates between rubbing small circles and patting ever so gently.

Footfalls on the landing alert him to Harry's presence.

"I think it just threw up on me," Draco says as he continues to rub the baby's back.

"Did you just call her an _it_?" Harry asks, walking into the pink and green nursery with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Of course not. Why? Did you?"

Harry smiles, crossing the room and kneeling in front of the chair as he looks at both Draco and their daughter. The expression of pure joy in his eyes is mesmerizing and Draco quickly looks away before he's coerced into admitting it out loud.

Unable to keep his gaze away from Harry for long, Draco glances back to find him staring intently at him still.

"This is good," Harry says after a moment of silence. He lays his head on Draco's lap, pushing his hand up under the hem of his shirt to rest his warm palm against the skin there.

Draco snorts with laughter as his free hand brushes through Harry's hair and he thinks to himself that this is so much more than simply "good" there isn't even a word for it. He finds himself short on many words lately, as a matter of fact. One might use "lucky" to describe his life, but he feels that luck had little to do with it. Love, persistence, compassion, and fierce determination all played influence in getting them to where they are, and as Draco glances down to the faded Dark Mark on his forearm, he thinks "grateful" might also be a good word. And "complete," as he could not imagine ever wanting or needing anything more than exactly what he has in this room at this very moment.

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**So, there we have it. Hopefully that wasn't too cracked for you all. Just a bit of fluffy-happy. I'm also currently working on a multi chapter HP fic that will be posted once it's complete. That one doesn't follow this same tone though. It's a bit darker (but always with a silver lining).**

**Thank you so much for reading.**


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